


Three Times Sportacus Saves Robbie and One Time Robbie Saves Sportacus

by fingalsanteater



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but shippier, going for the same tone as the show, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: Robbie's weather control device, the WeatherMeister 3000, doesn't quite work like he wanted it to. That's actually... okay.





	

Robbie fumed as he crouched behind the wall of the park and watched the brats play and, ugh, frolic in the snow. Stephanie smiled and pelted an equally good-natured Zaggy with a snowball while Puddle and Trudie accidentally sledded into St- Stumpy? Stinky? Well, What's-His-Name's pile of snowballs. His whiny cry of "But those were mine," set all the kids to laughing and bombarding him with hastily made snowballs of their own. Flipping over the opposite wall, Sportaflop joined in the laughter and gently lobbed a snowball at Stephanie.

Scoffing, Robbie scrunched up his face in disgust as he watched Sportaflip and all the kids move on to building a snowman with sports candy features - grape eyes, a carrot nose, and a banana mouth - while singing a jaunty tune about enjoying the outdoors despite weather.

Sportacus' addition of the smiling banana mouth was the last straw, the final insult that left Robbie so steamed up he was surprised the snow around him hadn't melted. Robbie couldn't stand to see his plan fail so miserably. And it had been perfect too! His weather control device, the WeatherMeister 3000, dropped the temperature from comfortable to freezing, and the addition of a little moisture coated the town in white slush.

The plan went swimmingly well at first, as the kids, used to warm weather, lazed about indoors, curled up in bed and on the couch in blanket cocoons. No more sports and no more playing! Perfect. And then _he_ showed up, with his sleds and scarves and assurances that anyone could still enjoy the outdoors despite the chill.

It was enough to get Robbie to venture out of his bunker too, spying on them in an attempt to discover some way to salvage his scheme and ruin their fun. But, the smiling snowman and the smiling kids and, sigh, the smiling Sportacus in his thick blue coat which hid the muscles of his arms when he swished them this way and that, was enough to prove to Robbie that this was a failure and a strategic retreat to rethink was the best option.

The cold, wet snow had soaked his pants and frozen his palms, and he shivered violently as he crept away, shoving his hands under his arms in an attempt to warm them. In his haste to get to town, he'd neglected to put on a coat. But, he trudged through the snow as quick as his long legs would allow and soon he could see the billboard that hid his hatch. Fantasies of fuzzy warm pajamas and wrapping himself in as many blankets as he could while enjoying a nice cup of cocoa with cream and marshmallows and extra chocolate danced sluggishly through his head.

Except, his hatch was frozen shut. He kicked the protruding metal tube in frustration and then hopped around holding his aching foot, managing to slip and land in a snow bank off the side of the platform.

It was a hard fall, knocking the air from his lungs. The snow was packed tightly and did not give easily upon impact. Robbie lay there, head spinning, body wet and freezing, for several minutes trying to catch his breath between chattering teeth.

He heard a crunch in the snow next to him and opened his eyes. Instead of the perfectly gloomy gray of the sky, he found himself looking up at bright blue. The blue of Sportacus' eyes. His brow was furrowed in concern and leaned over, letting the fringe on his long blue and white scarf dangle in Robbie's face, brushing against his icy nose. Robbie would have laughed at Sportacus'... goodness and irritatingly incessant need to show up where he wasn't wanted if Robbie's mouth weren't otherwise occupied with his fiercely chattering teeth.

"You look like you need help," said Sportacus, unhelpfully. Thankfully, Robbie's eyes were not occupied and he did manage to roll them quite dramatically.

Sportacus' response was an impressive feat of strength which Robbie mentally denied impressed him, deadlifting Robbie from the pile of snow and throwing him over his shoulder.

Robbie let himself be carried back up to his hatch, blaming his cold brain for his lack of protest. Needing two hands to open the frozen hatch, Sportacus let Robbie down from his shoulder to wobble slightly unsteady on his feet before guiding him gently to sit on the ground.

"Now you wait here," he said, "and I'll get you warmed up soon." Sportacus turned to open the hatch, but paused and quickly unwrapped the scarf from his neck. He turned back to Robbie and wrapped the scarf around his neck instead, then shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Robbie's shoulders. The scarf and jacket were warm from Sportacus' body heat, and Robbie instinctively pulled the jacket tighter around himself, chasing that warmth and trying to infuse it into his cold bones.

With just a grunt of mild exertion, Sportacus pried open Robbie's hatch. As soon as it opened with a metallic creak, Robbie found himself thrown back over Sportacus' shoulder.

"Hey!" He finally squeaked a minor protest, but then he was in his big, fuzzy orange chair and wrapped in blankets. It was just as he fantasized about earlier, except he wasn't in his pajamas and Sportacus was there digging around in his fridge.

"Hey," Robbie said again, throwing off his blankets and leaping to his feet. He made it a few feet before his knees wobbled and he fell back, sliding into the chair. "Stay out of my stuff," he said, sneezing loudly as if it were the punctuation to his sentence.

Sportacus pursed his lips and continued rummaging around, moving onto his pantry.

Robbie closed his eyes and let the sounds of Sportacus' futile search for whatever - sports candy that Robbie didn't have - lull him to sleep.

Next he knew, warm steam was wafting in his face as a cup of something hot was presented to him.

"It's chamomile tea, with honey," said Sportacus', answering Robbie's unspoken question.

Robbie frowned. "I don't remember having any… chameleon tea." He sniffed it again. “Is it poisonous? Are you trying to poison me with your disgusting sports candy!?”

Sportacus laughed sharply, his ridiculous mustache twitching as his lips turned up in a smile. "I had some tea bags in my utility belt and it’s not poison, Robbie. Chamomile tea is made from dried chamomile flowers."

"Flowers!" Robbie stopped and thought for a second after his outburst.

Sportacus was looking at him expectantly, holding out a mug of tea. Tea he made for Robbie to warm him up.

“I guess flowers are okay,” he finally said. Robbie took the offered tea, trying to appear bothered rather than grateful. The mug was warm in his cold hands. He breathed in the sweet-smelling steam and felt even warmer still. Robbie sipped at the tea under Sportacus' watchful eyes and his cheeks warmed.

"You should be fine, but stay inside for now and bundle up." Sportacus backflipped away to leave, missing Robbie rolling his eyes even harder than before. Like he would make the mistake of venturing outside again.

"Oh!" Sportacus flipped forward and caught the tail end of Robbie's dramatic eyeroll. "May I have my jacket back?"

Robbie shrugged out of it, grumbling, "Why would I want it?"

"And take your stupid scarf too," he added, attempting to unwrap it from his neck with one hand.

"No, no," said Sportacus, wrapping the scarf back. "I just need the jacket. You keep the scarf. It..." He trailed off, sentence dangling like the darn scarf from Robbie's neck.

"It what?"

Sportacus' brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Finally, he said, "It suits you."

Robbie gaped, not understanding and definitely not wanting anything of Sportacus' to suit him. But, before he could offer up a protest, Sportacus flipped away.

"Suits me? What does that even mean?" He grumbled to himself, sipping the tea and relishing the feel of the soft scarf against his chilled skin.

* * *

As soon as he remembered, Robbie turned off the WeatherMeister 3000 and chunked it into the back of a closet.

The weather warmed up naturally and melted the snow and ice, leaving big puddles that turned the dirt into mud.

Currently, Robbie was squelching through a particularly muddy patch, his knee-high galoshes threatening to stick every time he put his foot down.

"Stupid mud," he groused as he clomped awkwardly through it, sinking down farther and farther into it with each step he took. He tried to take another step and found his leg particularly uncooperative.

Grabbing his knee and attempting to unstick his foot from the mud, he muttered under his breath about how annoying this all was. He was complaining so much that it took a bit for him to realize that he was truly stuck and no amount of pulling would unstick him from the quagmire.

It was just his bad luck that the kids and Sportacus happened by, chattering happily like monkeys and kicking a muddy black-and-white ball around. Soccer ball? Football? Whatever, some sports ball. All of them, except Sportacus who looked perfect as always, had mud somewhere on their person. Most noticeable was Ziggy, who seemed completely covered in it. But he was still smiling and kicking the ball around too and Robbie instinctively scrunched up his nose at the kids and their... non-laziness.

"Oh, hey Robbie," chirped Stephanie. "What are you up to?"

He put his hand on his hip in an attempt to look casual. "Nothing," he said, adding in a tuneless whistle as he pretended to examine the expanse of mud in front of him. "Just... taking a walk."

Everyone looked confused for a second before Sportacus said, "Wow, Robbie! I can't believe you are exercising. That's awesome." He did a backflip and gave Robbie a wide smile when he landed on his feet.

Robbie, in turn, lost his balance, and, arms flailing like a windmill, landed backside first in the muck.

"Hey," said St...icky. "You're stuck!"

Robbie huffed out a sigh. "You don't say." He said, defeated. Another day ruined.

"Well, let's help him, guys!" Said Sportacus, literally leaping into action.

One song and an even muddier Ziggy later, Robbie was free, sans galoshes which had been sacrificed to the unyielding quagmire. He stood in his stocking feet on solid ground, wiggling his big toe through a hole in his sock and contemplating his life choices.

The whole "rescue" had been a circus of bad ideas and false starts, which Robbie would have normally enjoyed to some extent despite his predicament, but once they figured it out, it was smooth sailing. (Seeing Ziggy trip over the ball and fly face first in the mud was pretty high up on Robbie's list of entertaining moments, though.) But, having Sportacus strengthily... uh, mightily haul him from his boots while suspended above him on a rope strung tightly from one tree to another was exhilarating. No. Embarrassing. Humiliating!

It was humiliating to find himself once again at Sportacus' mercy, a victim - yes, a victim - to his vim and vigor as he zip-lined over Robbie and lifted him free of his boots. Robbie had grudgingly reached up toward Sportacus, who was somehow hanging by his feet from the contraption that traversed the length of the rope, and their hands wrapped firmly around each other's biceps as Robbie was pulled from his boots with a loud pop.

Sportacus' muscles bulged with the effort of holding Robbie, but, in the end, he set Robbie down as gently as he could and then flipped gracefully back to solid earth as if it had been nothing to hang upside down and carry Robbie.

Robbie was frustrated, to say the least, because as a part of his "Put the lazy back in Lazytown" initiative, robbing Sportacus of his strength and energy was high priority. And here Sportacus was again, showing everyone that being unlazy was good with his flips and muscles which lifted and held Robbie so easily and... ugh. His frustration manifested in a deep frown and a sulky posture, but was naively misinterpreted.

"Don't worry about your boots," said Stephanie, "When everything dries up, we can chip them out."

"Probably," Tracie added. “Or, they could be lost forever.” Stephanie gave her a look.

Sportacus clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “It was great that you were out for a walk! Enjoying the fresh air-“ he breathed in deeply -  “and stretching your legs.”

“I…” Sportacus’ strong hand on his shoulder was catching him off-guard. Maybe he had a new super-power that zapped the energy of others? No. That wasn’t Sportacus’ style. (But, huh, a good idea! Robbie set that aside in his mind to think about later.)

“I…” He tried again. He ducked his shoulder and squirmed out of Sportacus’ grasp. Sportacus’ smile fell and Robbie felt even worse.

Stephanie broke in. “Why don’t you come play some soccer with us, Robbie?” Her offer of sports was enough to shake Robbie from his trance.

“Ugh, sports,” exclaimed Robbie and stomped away best he could in only holey socks.

He heard Ziggy ask, “Huh, wonder what’s up with him?”

And Sportacus answered with a soft sigh, “He’s just being Robbie.”  

* * *

The mud dried up quickly as the temperature rose higher and kept rising. Where the WeatherMeister 3000 had failed to keep the kids inside due to snow, it accidentally succeeded in artificially increasing the outside temperature above normal to compensate for the sudden decrease. However, if Robbie’s calculations were correct, the temperature would even out again eventually. Which was fine, because it was too hot for even Robbie in his underground bunker with fans running full blast.

He was sweating just from spying on the kids as they made half-hearted efforts to enjoy themselves outside, before they retreated to the comfort of their air-conditioned houses. The mayor had promised to build a city pool, but it seemed to be a long time coming as no one wanted to work on it. Even Sportacus was nowhere to seen. 

Robbie laughed while rubbing his hands together and swiveled his periscope to spy on Mayor Meanswell who was fanning Bessie Busybody with a large palm frond.

“Everyone is just so lazy! It’s perfect,” Robbie said to himself and then he was struck with an idea. “Ah ha, but you know what would be even more perfect?” He asked the hot air. “Junk food!” He paused and thought a bit harder. “Oh, ice cream!” He donned a pair of white shorts, a white shirt, and a white cap with a little ice cream logo on it, and travelled topside to begin peddling his frozen wares at the stand in the park.

“Ice cream! Get your ice cream here!” He yelled, dinging the bell. “Chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, lemon custard, and blue!” He looked into cart again. “Blue?” He muttered to himself, then mentally shrugged off his confusion. “Whatever.”

From down the street he heard a voice echoing his question of, “Blue?” Ziggy came into view, his cheeks a little red from the heat and exertion. “Yes, yes! Ice cream man! I want to try blue,” he called out to Robbie. He huffed as he ran up to the cart, “Is it blueberries, blue raspberry, blue… uh. Well, I can’t think of anything else that is blue.”

Robbie snorted and said, “It’s just blue, kid.” He thrust a quintuple scoop cone into Ziggy’s hand.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. Ice Cream Man” said Ziggy and hurried away, back to his air-conditioned house.

One by one, the kids, the mayor and Bessie Busybody came by for a scoop or two. After Pixel, his last customer, left, Robbie sagged onto a park bench. “It really is hot,” he complained, fanning himself with his hat. “I could use some cold…” He sighed, realizing his cart was empty as he’d given all his ice cream away, a sugary incentive that would hopefully remind the town of the joys of junk food.

Wicking the sweat from his brow with his little hat, he quickly closed up shop and began trudging back to his bunker. But, after a few steps, a dizzy spell came on and his legs wobbled. He leaned on the wall surrounding the park, panting fiercely.

Sportacus flipped over the wall just as Robbie’s legs gave out and he swooned. He caught Robbie under the arms and laid him down under a shady tree.

“Are you okay, Robbie?” He asked, obviously concerned. Robbie just moaned.

“I think you are overheated. Here,” he said, holding a bottle with a straw to Robbie’s lips. “Drink this.” It said something about Robbie’s state that he didn’t even gag at the taste of unadulterated water on his tongue. He drank greedily while Sportacus held a tiny electric fan to Robbie’s sweaty face in an attempt to cool him down. “You can’t be out in this heat for long, Robbie. And, you have to drink plenty of water to stay hydrated.”

“Hydrated, schmydrated,” muttered Robbie. “Villains don’t care about hydration. Unless it’s in service of some water-bound scheme.”

One corner of Sportacus’ lip quirked up in a goofy half-smile. “Even villains need to stay hydrated, Robbie,” he said softly.  

Robbie rolled his eyes at his tone and sat up slowly, his head still spinning.

Sportacus placed a hand on Robbie’s back to support him, and exclaimed, “Whoa, take it easy there, Robbie. You need to rest.”

“Hah,” laughed Robbie, surprised. Was this a dream? “I never thought I’d hear you, of all people, say I need to rest.”

Sportacus pressed the back of his other hand to Robbie’s forehead, checking his temperature. “Just because I have trouble resting, doesn’t mean I don’t know when others should. And you, my friend, definitely need to. And drink plenty of fluids. Come on.” He hauled Robbie up and carried him bridal style against his chest.  

Robbie was taken aback by Sportacus’ usage of “friend.” Friend? He wasn’t sure he knew what to do with that word. Should he toss it in his mental garbage can like he had once before, or hang it up like a hat to wear on certain occasions? Or cuddle it like a pillow? He was confused, and dizzy anyway. He set it aside for later, and let Sportacus carry him home. He had to admit that being carried was nice at least.       

* * *

Mayor Meanswell’s promise of a pool was finally realized just as the heat began to die down. The sounds of laughing and splashing invaded Robbie’s bunker, and he ventured out, disguised as a lifeguard in a full piece maroon and purple striped swimsuit with thick white stripes of zinc oxide ointment across his cheeks and nose.

He approached the pool with determination, shrilly blowing a whistle.

“Ow, what’s that noise,” said Stephanie, covering her ears and looking around. She, Trixie, and Ziggy had been having a splash fight in the shallows. Stingy had just dived off the diving board and Pixel had egged him on from a safe distance while treading water. Sportacus had been lifeguarding from an elevated chair to better keep an eye on things.

Robbie blew the whistle once more and announced, “I am the lifeguard and you are violating the pool rules.”

Sportacus slid down the ladder of his elevated seat. “No, I’m the lifeguard and they aren’t breaking any rules.”

Robbie pointed to the sign he had sneakily placed earlier. “Uh uh,” he said, shaking his head. “Look here. First rule: no playing!” Sportacus scoffed and the kids cried, “What?”

Robbie cleared his throat. “Second rule: no laughing!” Sportacus frowned.

“Third rule: I’m the lifeguard.”

Sportacus’ brow scrunched up. “’I’m the lifeguard?’”

“No,” said Robbie, “I’m –“ he pointed to his chest – “the lifeguard.” He blew his whistle again. “New rule: everyone out of the pool!” The children looked at him with sad eyes and pouty faces. Robbie blew his whistle again; no mercy. “Come on, come on!” He ushered them out as Sportacus protested.  

One by one, the children emerged from the water, their sighs of disappointment music to Robbie’s ears.

He shooed them away. “Yes, that’s it, go back home and sit on your couch. Watch some TV; eat some candy.”  

The next part of his plan was a little trickier. He needed to zap Sportacus of his energy, which meant tricking him into eating sugar. But, Robbie was prepared.

He clapped Sportacus on the back and held out a bottle similar to one Sportacus offered him when he was overheated. Inside was sugar water, but he told Sportacus, “It’s water, Sportabuddy. Need to stay hydrated, so drink up!”

“Thanks,” said Sportacus warily. He took a sip and immediately collapsed, landing on a beach ball at his feet that bounced him just enough to send him sliding into the pool face down.

“Sportacus,” Stephanie yelled, running to Robbie. “Help him! You’re the lifeguard, aren’t you?”

“Uh. Right. I’m the – I’m the lifeguard,” said Robbie excitedly, panicking on the inside. He belly-flopped into the water and came up sputtering.

“Help him,” urged Ziggy.

Robbie dogpaddled as fast as he could to Sportacus, dove down to his sinking form and pulled him up, thankful for the buoyancy of water to assist him in heaving Sportacus back to the surface. Floating Sportacus on his back in water, Robbie pulled him to the shallows and then up out of the pool. It was probably the hardest he’d ever worked and he wheezed, dropping to his knees beside Sportacus in exhaustion.

“Is he okay?’” Asked Stephanie, coming closer.

Robbie cautiously pressed his ear to Sportacus’ bare chest, and listened to the steady beating of his heart. Sportacus inhaled and exhaled, chest expanding and contracting under Robbie’s cheek. “He’s okay,” whispered Robbie, almost to himself.  

“What’s wrong with him, then?” Ziggy asked.

Trixie, who had run back with Pixel and Stingy behind her at the sound of Stephanie and Ziggy yelling, said, “He seems like he’s lost all his energy.” She gave Robbie a pointed look.

“Hm,” said Stephanie, thinking aloud, “what if we gave him some sports candy?”

All the children agreed this would be a good idea, and Stephanie dug a carrot out of her backpack. She handed the carrot to Robbie, who turned up his nose and took it between his thumb and forefinger like it was something disgusting. Which it was.  He didn’t have the heart not to offer it to the comatose Sportacus. His stomach felt a bit sick, and it wasn’t just the carrot in his hand causing it to roil. He held it under Sportacus’ nose and the smell seemed to revive him enough to take it from Robbie and bite into it.

Sportacus chewed weakly and swallowed his small bite of carrot. His eyes opened and his first sight was of Robbie leaning over him.

“You look concerned, Robbie,” he said and laughed out loud.

Robbie gasped. “I’m - I'm not Robbie,” he protested, but he made the mistake of looking up at Stephanie and the rest of the kids.

She said, “Hey, it is Robbie!”

His disguise must not be working. Hm, he’d have to rethink a swim disguise that could actually be maintained when wet – it seemed like a major flaw.

Robbie sat back and allowed Sportacus to leap up, showing he was strong once again. He finished off the carrot in a few bites and did a few flips to the delight of the kids. Robbie took the opportunity to slink away, but Sportacus quickly caught up to him.

“Where are you going, Robbie? Come back.”

Ignoring Sportacus, he continued walk quickly. Sportacus caught him by the wrist and gently tugged, forcing Robbie to turn and face him.

“It was really brave of you to help me, Robbie.” Sportacus didn’t let go his wrist, but Robbie strangely didn’t feel inclined to pull away from his grasp. “Especially since you were the one who got me into trouble in the first place.” He wasn’t admonishing Robbie, however, just commenting on the facts. Robbie couldn’t look him eye and he stared down at his feet in his sandals and at the dirt, spotted with the water he was dripping.

He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “It’s kind of my job to get you into trouble, being a villain and all. You know.”

“Heh, I guess you’re right.” Sportacus’ slid down to Robbie’s palm and rubbed a small circle. Robbie’s mouth went a little dry. He thought quickly about adequate hydration and then chastised himself for letting Sportacus’ obsession with good health rub off on him. And, why was he letting Sportacus rub soft little circles into the palm of his hand anyway? He shifted his hand so their fingers were interlocked. The change in position forced Robbie to step a little closer to Sportacus and look him in the eye.

“You’re trouble, Robbie Rotten,” said Sportacus, putting his other hand on Robbie’s chest, and Robbie finally got it. His lips curled into a smile to match Sportacus’.

“Oh, I really am,” he said, and let himself sway a little closer to Sportacus. He wondered if Sportacus’ mustache tickled.  

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I've been writing this for like half a year - way back when the fandom was super dead and I was watching LazyTown because I really, legitimately love the show and think it's lots of fun, uplifting and a good distraction. I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy 2017 and good wishes for a better year!


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